Friend Or Foe?
by Little Pink Neko
Summary: I take a breath. I exhale. I open my eyes. And then, mine meet his. Those cold, heartless, green eyes. The eyes of a killer. A monster. A enemy. But why did they have to look so...beautiful? Human? I open my mouth... "Friend or Foe?"
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! This is my first Hunger Games fanfic. It's just sorta a tester, so yeah… Anyway, please review. It really helps me write, knowing people are actually reading. Constructive criticism welcome!**

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**Symbols:**

**Fire & Water**

**Sun & Moon**

**Death & Life**

**Light & Darkness**

**Night & Day**

**Heaven & Hell**

**Evil & Good**

**Hot & Cold**

**Hope & Doom**

**Weak & Strong**

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**Spots taken...**

DISTRICT 1

Female: Emerald Gleam

Male: Isander Calus

DISTRICT 2

Female: Elkia Roffin

Male: Theon Casca

DISTRICT 3

Female: Pixel Fuse

Male: Sunny Wyatt

DISTRICT 4

Female: Ebony Mantt

Male: Ryne Littrens

DISTRICT 5

Female: Ivory Hayes

Male: -

DISTRICT 6

Female: -

Male: -

DISTRICT 7

Female: Heather Wood

Male: -

DISTRICT 8

Female: -

Male: -

DISTRICT 9

Female: -

Male: -

DISTRICT 10

Female: Terra Mason

Male: -

DISTRICT 11

Female: Agalie Haynes

Male: -

DISTRICT 12

Female: -

Male: Keegan Caverly

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**Warning: I don't really think anything bad happens in this chapter…maybe some strong language, I dunno.**

**Disclaimer: if I owned The Hunger Games, I would most likely be rich, living in a mansion and sipping martinis, not writing fanfics, darling.**

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**Characters:**

**Google these actors if you wanna know what my characters look like. They represent my OCs in this story.**

**Pixel Fuse (18): Juno Temple**

**Theon Casca (18): Eh…he doesn't really **_**look **_**like any celebrity I can think of…meh, there's a link to a pic of a guy he looks like on my profile. So go there. **

**Amara Castillo (15): Lia Marie Johnson**

**Tennit Bolt (18): Devon Bostick**

**Brianne Spark (18): Jane Levy**

**Sunny Wyatt (12): Jae Head**

**Bryston Fuse (53) (Pixel's father): Hugh Laurie**

**Clara Casca (40) (Theon's mother): Amy Adams**

**Daria Casca (8) (Theon's sister): Mia Hays**

**Alerio Casca (43) (Theon's father): Josh Duhamel**

**Heather Wood (District 7) (14): Alyson Stoner**

**Ryne Littrens (District 4) (18)****: Basically a Hispanic Alexander Ludwig**

**Agalie Haynes (District 10) (15): Kiki Palmer**

**Ivory Hayes (District 5) (16): Shailene Woodley**

**Keegan Caverly (District 12) (18): Logan Lerman**

**Harley Leo (District 3 Escort) (22): Ezra Miller**

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**Other Important Information:**

**Okay, Katniss was never born, there for the second rebellion never happened. It is currently the year of The Seventy Fifth annual Hunger Games. Set in District 3.**

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**Chapter 1: The Quell**

Great.

Just fricken' great.

The Quarter-Fricken'-Quell.

Whoopty-fricken'-Doo.

I sit on the couch, staring blankly at the TV screen as my Dad, Bryston, sits, flicking leisurely through the newspaper.

_Gahh, how can he act so casual?_

I am _literally _shaking like a leaf.

Trembling in my boots.

And I'm not even _wearing_ boots.

Yeah…

He's even _whistling._

_Whistling._

Does he want a slap?

'Cause that's coming to 'im.

"Stop acting so casual!" I all but scream at him.

He doesn't even look up. "What? The broadcast hasn't even started yet."

"That's not the point. It's the principle."

"What principle?" he asks, turning the next page.

"I dunno. But there is one!"

He simply shakes his head in an annoying way.

Ugh.

My dad can do _anything _in an annoying way.

Don't believe me? Try him.

My attention is turned away from my utterly annoying father and back to the TV. I see Ceaser Flickerman standing there, wearing his usual blue, sparkling, sequin suit. This year his hair is a hot pink. I like pink. "Hello Panem!" He hollers to the crowd. "We all know this is a _very _special year!" He pauses, probably for dramatic effect. The crowd cheers and whoops at this. "Yes, yes, The _Seventy-fifth _annual Hunger Games!" He grins directly at the screen. I literally have to look away, the teeth are so bright, they hurt my eyes. "You all know what that means, our third Quarter Quell!" Everyone starts cheering even louder at his statement, and then the screen slowly fades out.

"Whoopee," I hear Dad say sarcastically. "_Look at all the creative ways they can kill innocent children! Much fun, darling!" _He says with a phony Capitol accent. I snort out loud at his pretty accurate imitation.

"What do you think it'll be this year?" I say, turning to face him.

"I dunno. But does it really matter? I just gonna be the same awful bullshit." He pauses, looking up at me from behind his reading glasses. "Just new, 'creative' ways to destroy a family and take a kid's life. It's a wonder it hasn't died out after all these years…"

My attention turns back to the TV when the anthem places, and I suddenly see President Snow standing there, in his incredibly white suit. With his incredibly white hair. And incredibly white skin.

_Jeez, he's like the whitest person ever. He can make ghosts look dark in comparison._

It's a wonder he's still alive after all these years. I mean, wow. How can he be _that _old and alive.

Maybe he drinks the blood of children to keep himself youthful.

Now why wouldn't _that_ surprise me.

"Greetings citizens of Panem." He says. Even his _voice_ sounds white. Even though that…doesn't make sense. He then proceeds to recite why we were in this shit to begin with. The rebellion, the deaths, _the tragedy, _oh-boohoo. They don't care about the loss, or anything else for that matter. All they care about is there stupid games, and punishing us for some stupid rebellion that happened years ago. They really hold a grudge in the Capitol. He then continues to tell us about the past Quarter Quells, and stuff. I'm not really listening, considering I've heard it all before like a million times now. "And now we honour our Third Quarter Quell," I watch as a little boy steps forward, holding the box of slips which decide the fate of twenty-four unlucky children. I hold my breath, my heart thud-thud-thudding against my ribcage. I suddenly feel a hand take mine, and give it a comforting squeeze. I look to my right to see Dad, looking at me with tired, kind eyes. I sigh, resting my head on his shoulder. I watch as Pres. Snow's hand reaches into the box and pulls out a little, yellowed envelope. On it reads the number '75'. I bite my lip.

I watch as he slips his finger under the flap and prises it open. He pulls out a small piece of card.

I close my eyes.

I take a deep breath.

And-

"On The Seventy-fifth Anniversary, as a reminder that no matter how different each rebels strengths were and are, they could still not triumph over the Capitol, two winners may emerge, both paired together, who are complete opposites of each other."

-I exhale.

I stare blankly at the screen as it slowly fades out.

Well…it could be worse…

Right…?


	2. Chapter 2

**NEXT CHAPTER! Yay! Hope you guys enjoy this. please, please don't be put off by the slow start. It really gets better now, I promise!**

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**Warning: Strong language. Maybe. Probably. Definitely.**

**Disclaimer: I definitely do not own The Hunger Games. If I did, Katniss would have always loved Peeta and there would've been lots and lots and lots more cute, fluffy moments between them.**

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**Chapter 2: Cats, knickers and annoying parents**

"_I like cheese, I like cheese, I like cheese – 'cause I'm cool like that!"_ I sing, dancing round the kitchen in a long, blue t-shirt and knickers. "'_Cause cheese is teh smhexy and someday it'll be legal to marry it! Yeaaaaaaah, babaaaaaaaaay!" _I jump up onto the desk and start waving my arms around.

My cat starts joining in with my singing, screeching and meowing along. Or maybe he's telling me in cat-language to shut the hell up. Either way, he's still a better singer than me.

My cat's name is 'Mr Wigglebottom'.

Don't ask.

I turn to look at my cat. He's is so fricken' fat. He's so fat that some people mistake him for a fluffy pillow. They make a _very_ fatal mistake there.

I pick Mr Wigglebottom up, nuzzling my nose against his. He simply purrs at this, nuzzling me back. "Jeez, Wigglebottom, you're getting heavy," I slowly sit him down on the table. As I do this, I realize '_getting heavy'_ was an understatement.

I jump down off the table (_just_ avoiding falling face-first) and walk over to a kitchen cabinet. I throw it open and pull out a slice of bread. I stuff it in my mouth. Yumerz.

I pad through to the living room, Mr Wigglebottom following me.

I throw myself down onto the couch, crossing my legs. Mr Wigglebottom repeatedly tries (and fails) to get up on the couch, but keeps sliding off it, clawing his paws into the cushions. Once it stops being entertaining, I scoop him up with one arm and sit him down next to me. He tries to get up onto my lap, but I shove him off, mainly because I don't plan on having my legs crushed for the rest of my existence.

I flick on the TV, and see Ceaser Flickyhair and that-other-guy-who's-name-I-don't-know/can't-be-bothered-to-learn.

They are both sitting behind a desk and laughing as tributes starve on the screen behind them. They seem to be having a jolly good time.

Hey, maybe if my brain cells had been destroyed by Botox and those silly rainbow wigs I would find kids starving to death endlessly entertaining too.

They then swivel round in their swively-chairs.

_I want a chair like that…so I'll be all like 'WEEEEEE!' and they'll be all like 'I want a chair like that…'_

I almost jump out my skin when Ceaser Flickyhair's booming voice brings me away from my weird thoughts. "Now, we bet you are all wondering how The Quarter Quell twist will work."

_No. but you're gonna tell us anyway._

"Each tribute will be given a symbol. Such as the sun, the moon, the sky, ect," he says. "They will have to look for the tribute with the opposite symbol. For example, the moon would look for the sun, the heavens for hell, and so on."

_There would be no need to look for hell though. If you're in The Hunger Games, you're already in hell._

This sounds…interesting.

"Garghh," I look over at the staircase to see my father, wearing his trackie-bottoms and a long t-shirt, with his bunny slippers that I bought him for his birthday. Fair to say he wasn't very happy with them.

"Hello dear papa."

"Yeah, yeah," he says, waving an arm around for no apparent reason. He flumps down on the couch beside me, giving an exasperated sigh.

I turned towards him, frowning. "'Sup, dawg."

He raises an eyebrow, but then turns his attention towards the TV. "I never exactly feel great when I see the Hunger Games announcement."

I give him a nudge in the ribs. "Come on, take of your grumpy pants and put on your sunshine bunny hat!"

He smirks slightly at my obscene comment, and gets up from the couch. "Looks like The Quell hasn't put a dark cloud over your pocket full of sunshine."

I pull a stupid-looking face. "_Oh you!" _I extend my arm slightly, doing a stupid flicky thing with my hand.

He shakes his head (an annoying habit of his, in my humble opinion) and runs a hand through his short, greying hair. "I'm gonna go make some coffee, want some?"

"Nah," I say, getting up from the couch. "I'm gonna go meet Brianne and Tennit,"

"You honestly think Brianne will be up at this time? You know how she loves her sleep."

"Meh. I'll find a way."

"Oh, I _know _you will." He turns around, and walks into the kitchen. I can hear him sniggering.

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing."

_Damn him._

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I smooth my hands over my pretty green dress, playing with the soft fabric. I look down at my friend, Brianne, who is currently hanging upside down on the monkey bars. She doesn't seem to care that her knick-knacks are clearly visible.

Oh well.

"You really don't care that every person within this shitty town can just walk by and see your underwear?" Tennit says. He's sitting on the bench across from us, slouched back, his arms folded behind his head. "Scratch that, with _that _colour of underwear, you could see them in orbit."

Tennit's my best mate. He's so deep.

Brianne shrugs from upside-down, folding her arms above her head. "Who cares? 'Cause I don't. I'm just advertising."

Brianne's my other best mate. She's had so many boyfriends I can't count them on my fingers. I'd have to borrow a few toes for that.

Tennit sniggers. "Advertising? I don't even wanna know, man…"

Brianne huffs, folding her arms across her chest. "It's not _my _fault that every guy I go out with is a two-timing jerk!"

Tennit sighs, running a hand through his hair. "It's you who goes out with them, sweetheart, not us."

"Besides," I say, crossing my legs on the ground. "The type of guy who picks you up because of your knick-knacks is _not _the type of guy you wanna go out with, Brianne."

"Yeah, yeah…" Brianne sighs, looking away from us. "I just want a guy…that's, you know, true. And cares about me…Is that too much to ask?"

"In a world where there is a game in which kids fight to the death for people's entertainment…well, it probably is." Tennit says, cracking his knuckles. Ugh, I hate it when he does that.

"Ten! Don't be so pessimistic! Brianne will totally find someone!" I half-yell at him, frowning furiously.

Tennit sighs, resting his head in his hands. "I can't _help _being pessimistic, Pixel. Especially when the odds are definitely _not _in my favour."

I already knew this. Tennit had been incredibly unfortunate, having a very poor family, with a lot of siblings. There was barely anything to go around. So little that he resorted to stealing. We tried to stop him from doing this, offering him food and money, but he refused. Though, to be fair, in his situation, I would probably would too.

Brianne swings herself up, so she is now sitting on the bar, looking more serious. "How many slips have you got in?" Brianne says, biting her lip. A nervous habit of hers.

"Seventy-eight…" He laughs in a bitter, humourless way. "Guess the odds aren't exactly in my favour, eh?"

I'm literally rendered speechless.

Seventy-eight slips.

Seventy-eight chances of death.

"Oh no, Tennit…" I say, staring down at my bare feet.

"It's…" He pauses, then looks back up at us. His eyes look slightly watery. "It's okay…can we…talk about something else, please?"

Only…we don't talk. We sit in silence for what seems like ages.

Because…really, there was nothing we could really say, nothing we could do…

At least…for now.

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**Did you love it? Hate it? Please tell me either way! I would really love to know how to improve. And, I know it's going **_**really **_**slow now. But it speeds up in the next chapter. Promise! I just wanted to introduce the characters properly.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! Thank you for the reviews I've gotten so far. It really means a lot to know that some people are reading and liking what I've got so far.**

**Anyway…**

**I'm finally cutting to the chase here. Were actually getting to the good stuff now. :D I think you'll all be relieved to hear that! **

**Also, I need more tributes! So please, please submit more!**

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**Chapter 3: **

_A while later…_

My eyes snap open.

Hey…

No big deal…

I mean, it's just…

_The reaping._

Well…

I mean, it's not my names in the bowl a lot…

Come on.

No.

No, it won't be me.

Yeah.

Yeah, it'll be someone else.

Man…

That sounds awful…

But…

I can't go into the games.

No.

No.

I've got too much to live for.

Friends.

Family.

But…

What about the person who does get reaped?

They have family, and friends too…

And…

No.

No.

I can't think like this.

I have to…

_Remain positive._

Yeah…

Yeah.

Positivity is the key.

"Oi, sleeping-beauty, up-and-at-'em!" I hear my Dad shout from downstairs.

_Great._

I pull the covers back, and sit up, sighing.

_Just think, in two weeks, I could be dead._

_Dead._

I place my head in my hands, digging my finger nails into my scalp. I didn't realize how long I sat there, lost in my own thoughts. I was brought back to the present when I felt something slowly trickling down my fingers. I pull my hands away, and see blood running down my hands.

_Man…I really need to cut my nails before I accidently impale myself on them._

"Come on, Pixel! Ya need to get up now!"

I sigh, and stand up, wiping my bloody hands on my pj's. I didn't honestly care if they stained. Because, really, this wasn't the time no worry about such things.

I walk downstairs quietly. I smell a very delicious, mouth-watering smell. On any other day I would've gone sprinting into the kitchen to get me some of that, but not today.

I walk past the couch and blaring TV, over to the kitchen doorway. I lean against it, watching my father run around the kitchen, trying to cook. The thing is, he completely sucks at cooking, and nearly burns the house down doing it. I shake my head, the corners of my lips twitching into a smile.

Dad spins round, wearing my pink, frilly apron. I have to stifle a small giggle. "Hey, sweetheart!" He yells, grinning at me. I can easily tell he's trying to make everything seem normal. Acting like it's okay. But I know him to well…and, I can tell he just trying to crack under the surface.

Same as me, I guess.

I force a small smile. "Hey Dad…"

He looks at my clothes, then frowns.

Oh right.

The blood.

"What happened to your clothes?" he asks, spinning back around to attend to the sausages sizzling away in the frying pan.

"Oh, um…no worries, it's just cranberry juice." I lie. I decide it would be better not to tell him about blood. He doesn't deserve that.

I sit down at the kitchen table, lifting Mr Wigglebottom up onto my lap. "Smells good." I say, running a hand over Mr Wigglebottom's black and white fur. He looks up at me with big, duck-egg blue eyes. They say animals can tell when you're upset. And I could tell that was true, just from the look on his chubby face.

"I know, right?" Dad says, cracking an egg into another frying pan.

'Kitty, you know I might never see you again.' I think, staring down at my kitty.

"Meow." I all Mr Wigglebottom says. Though, I'm sure it means something more than that. I just know things like that.

Always.

I'm brought away from my day-dreaming state when I hear a small 'clank.' I look up, seeing my Dad placing a plate filled with bacon, sausage and egg in front of me.

I simply stare at it for a while.

Ha.

Funny to think that this may be the last time I ever have a meal with my Dad.

Oh, how _funny._

"Aren't you going to eat?"

I look up, slightly startled. I see my Dad, sitting across from me, a slightly nervous and sad expression on his face. He immediately smiles, trying to keep up the act.

"Yeah." I say.

And so I do.

Only, I don't really.

My mouth is so dry that everything tastes like old socks. So instead, I feed Mr Wigglebottom as much of it as I can without Dad noticing.

"Thanks, Dad, that was great." I say, with as much fake enthusiasm as I can muster up. Which isn't much.

"Really?" Dad says, giving me a fake smile.

"'Course!" I say, pushing back my chair and slowly standing up. Mr Wigglebottom jumps off my lap and climbs onto the window sill.

He gives me once last look.

A look that says 'Goodbye.'

And maybe even 'Good luck.'

I'm glad for that.

Because, right now, I need all the luck I can get.

And then he goes.

"Bye, kitty-cat…" I whisper, so quietly only I can hear.

I then quickly run out the room, up the stairs and into my bathroom. I look at the tin tub, already filled with water.

Dad must've got it ready for me.

I strip off my blood-stained garments and slowly lower myself into the tub.

I suddenly feel cooled as the chilly water washes over me. It's a nice feeling. I sigh, and dunk my head under the water. I open my eyes, and see the water rippling above me.

I remember I used to dream that I was drowning when I was little.

I really used to believe that I was drowning.

Drowning in the salty sea.

Then I have an idea.

I decide to let it all out.

And so I start screaming.

Screaming as loud as I can.

Screaming away all my worries and troubles and sorrows.

I then jolt upright. I wipe water from my eyes, and smooth back my dripping wet hair. I grab a scrubbing brush and rub at my feet, breaking away the dry skin. Once I'm done getting clean, I stand up, stepping out the bath. I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I sigh.

I take a deep breath.

I exhale.

"Stop. Feeling. Sorry. For. Yourself. You. Whiny. Biatch." I say, looking myself straight in the eye.

I grab a towel, wrapping it round myself and exiting the bathroom. Once I'm in my room I quickly dry my hair as much as I can with the towel, deciding to just leave it down. I couldn't be bothered with trying to make myself look good.

I look down at my Reaping outfit. It's a pretty, soft, mustard coloured dress with a daffodil pattern around the hem. A small pair of white ballet flats.

Plain and simple. Just how I like it.

I quickly dress myself, and stop to admire myself in the mirror. I look…decent. Meh. I didn't really care. This wasn't a fashion show, after all.

You'd sometimes think it _is _based on what some tributes wear. Especially from the career districts.

I quickly walk down the stairs. I immediately see my father, smiling at me, leaning against the kitchen doorframe. "You look beautiful." He says, straightening up.

I smile slightly. "Thanks." I pause, looking round the room one last time. "We going now?" I say, resisting the urge to sigh.

"Sure." He says, walking past me and opening the front door. I quickly walk out, and turn around, looking expectantly at him.

He closes the door, and I faintly hear him sigh. But when he turns around, he's still smiling. But, I can now even see it wavering. I walk over to him, and wrap my arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. "I'll be fine. I promise." I whisper faintly.

He then waits a moment, before hugging me back. "Oh, I know."

I pull away, and just stare at him for a little while, as if trying to memorise every feature of his face. "I think we should go." I say, turning my head down to stare at my shoes, squirming uncomfortably.

"Yeah."

And so we do.

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I'm now standing. In line with the other eighteen year olds.

The tension is so thick here you could cut it with a knife.

Literally.

I can actually _see _all the other girls shaking.

Me? I'm just busy trying not to faint.

I'm so glad Brianne's here, though. She's clutching my hand as if her life depends on it. Which, it sort of does, in a way. I have a feeling she's cut of my circulation, but I don't really care. I scan the area, looking for Tennit. My eyes finally lock on his face, and I find myself smiling. I don't know why, but it's comforting.

I look up, seeing the mayor, Oriko Faraway, taking his seat. He's a nice guy, but very sad. His daughter entered the games when she was twelve, and, it's fair to say that she never made it home. He's been in depression ever since. My Dad is really good friends with him. I am too, I suppose. They seem to know each other quite well, after all, Dad is in charge of one of the factories in our district, so they would interact anyway to some extent. I think they knew each other in school as well. He comes over a lot, sometimes sharing a drink with my Dad.

Then, the two victors of our district take their seats. Beetle and Wiress…? I may be wrong, but that's what I recall their names being. I hardly know anything about them, except the obvious, of course. Dad says he's sometimes worked with Beetle. And, for a while, I think Tennit was taught by him. I know even less about Wiress though. Most people say she's got some screws lose. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out why. The games can shatter even the sanest being.

Then our district escort, Harley Leo. He has mid-length electric blue hair, with a swoopy side-fringe that hangs over his right eye. His eyes are almost completely white, except for the pupils, which are little black slits. He's wearing a literally glowing green suit, with wires running up the sleeves. For some reason, on his feet, he wears glowing flip-flops. Don't ask because I don't know. But still, he's an actually nice guy. He didn't seem to care much that he wasn't in a better district.

This was it.

It was time.

Harley walked up the microphone, tapping it with his fingers. "Hello, District Three! How are you all this fine day?" he howlers, grinning with absolute glee. He waits for us to respond, and, of course, no one does.

Talk about awkward.

"Anyway, today is the day where we chose one _very _lucky man and woman, for the honour of representing District Three in The Seventy-fifth annual Hunger Games." he says, still grinning. It appears that nothing can curb his enthusiasm. He turns to the side, and then the screen starts to show that stupid little thing they show every year, explaining why we were in this shit. About how _passionate _and _forgiving _the 'All-Mighty Capitol' is. Yeah right. Once it finishes, his grin seems to have grown to about twice its size. "Now then," he says, turning back towards us. "Let's get started!"

Here it is.

The moment we've all been waiting for.

He starts walking towards the bowl, then runs back in front of the microphone. "Oh, Ladies first!" He then totters back over to the bowl.

He dips his hand into it.

He pulls out a slip.

I hold my breath.

And-

"Pixel Fuse!"

Someone screams. So does someone else. And yet another scream fills my ears.

I cover my ears with my hands, trying to block out the awful, shrill sound.

I don't know what to do.

So I just stand there. My eyes squeezed shut. My hands over my ears.

I hear someone calling my name again, and I slowly let my eyes open.

Is this a dream?

Or is this real?

I try to move, but I literally can't.

I feel like a statue, stuck to the ground. Unable to move.

The world is spinning, and nothing seems clear.

But one thing is.

That I'm going to die.

I then feel like I'm floating. I don't know why, but I do. Almost like…flying?

But no. Someone's carrying me. I can still hear the screaming, and crying. A lot of it.

Maybe it's just my imagination.

Then I'm lowered to the ground.

And my eyes open.

I'm standing in front of the whole of district three. All eyes on me.

So…it wasn't a dream.

I look over to where I was standing before to see Brianne weeping, being held and comforted by a bunch of other girls. I look over to Tennit. I see his eyes watering. And that he's trying not to cry.

Then he mouths something at me.

He mouths…

_Be strong._

But…I can't.

The world starts spinning again. I feel like I'm wobbling, unsteady. Someone's saying something, but I don't hear them. I don't understand.

I suddenly feel like I'm either going to throw up or faint.

It's the latter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello everyone! Next chapter for ya'll!**

**P.S. Could I please, please, please get some more tributes? It would be really helpful. I promise I won't be picky.**

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**Chapter 4: Goodbye**

I open my eyes.

Where…am I?

I slowly sit up, propping myself up on my elbows. I look around the room. It's very fancy. Well, fancier than any room I've ever seen. The carpet is a lush, rich red colour, reminding me of blood. I look at the walls, a plain cream colour, some of them lined with fancy bookshelves and leather-bound books. Red leather chairs and couches were spaced around the wall, like the one I now realize I am lying on.

That's when it hits me.

I'm here because…

Because…

I'm a tribute.

In the Seventy-Fifth Annual Hunger Games.

Aka: The Quarter Quell.

Then another thing becomes apparent to me.

That I'm going to die.

It's around then that a shooting pain runs up the back of my skull. I gasp, bringing my hands up to the back of my head, trying to find the source of the pain. I then gasp gain as I feel a lump under my fingertips.

I search my brain, trying to remember what happened to give me that awful lump.

Oh right.

I fainted…

Well. Looks like I'm off to a great start in the Games.

Because, ya know, everyone wants to sponsor that one tribute that freaks out, wobbles around and faints.

Not.

Oh well.

At the very least I'll provide entertainment to those colourful freaks.

I suddenly hear the door being opened. I turn my head towards it, just to see my Dad to come rushing in. he comes over to me, and wraps his arms round my fragile figure. He squeezes me so tightly, I feel as if I might snap in two.

"Come on," he whispers into my ear. I don't respond. I just blink. "Show them all of your fight. You need to show them…" He pauses, his voice turning raspy. He sounds as if he's about to start crying. "You'll win." He finishes. He then pulls away, holding me at arm's length.

"I can't fight…I can't impress. I can't do anything…I can't win…" I say. I don't honestly see the point in being optimistic. Being optimistic is the same as lying. And I'm sick of lying. Pretending that everything's okay. Pretending that everything _will _be okay.

Because I know now.

Nothing will ever be okay again.

He simply shakes his head. "Of course you can. You're a fighter." He tries a sad smile, brushing some of waves from my eye. "You inherited that from your mother."

He then pulls me into another hug. This time, I allow myself to hug him back. "Promise me you'll try." He says. "Try to win for me."

I nod into his shoulder, tears forming in my eyes. But I won't let myself cry. I have to stop taking the easy way out. I have to be strong.

And…

Even when I go…

I'll try to be strong.

No.

I will be strong.

"Of course I will." I say, burying my head into his shoulder. "Have you ever known me not to try?" I say, smiling faintly.

"That's my girl."

Then he's pulled away by the peace-keepers.

I simply stand there. Staring at the door. Until it opens again. This time Brianne comes rushing in.

I look at Brianne. She looks absolutely hysteric. She's crying. And not in the pretty way that girls cry in the movies. Properly crying. She throws her arms around my shoulders. Saying over and over "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

I hug her back. "It'll be okay. It'll be okay." Rocking her back and forth.

I was getting a little annoyed by this point.

_I'm _the one that's facing almost certain death here!

Why am _I _the one doing all the consoling?!

"You can win. I know it." Brianne says, wiping her eyes and sniffling. "You can do it. I know it."

I nod. "I will. I'll try."

She shakes her head. "You won't _try. _You'll win." She then pulls away, looking up at me with teary eyes. "I know you will. You're cool like that."

Those words bring a grin to my lips.

Then she is pulled out by the peace keepers. And then, I feel my heart sink.

This sounds incredibly clichéd and overdone…but…it's moments like these that really make you value your life. Your friends. Family…

Then the door is flung open yet again, and Tennit comes running in. Instead of flinging his arms around me in a wild show of affection, he takes my hands in his. I stare at his hands for a while. He has pretty hands. They remind me of snow.

Snow…

President Snow…

Hmm…

After what feels like forever, I look up at him. He looks like he's about to start crying. "How you holding up?" he says in a shaky tone of voice.

I blink. What an odd question. "Fine as I can be." I say. Then adding, bitterly: "Which isn't _fine _at all."

"Listen," he says, leading me over to the couch and sitting me down. He looks at me with a deadly-serious expression. "If you wanna win…you've got to impress them. You're good at that."

My brow furrows in confusion. "Wait…what? Why are you talking about this?"

He shakes his head. "I just…you need to win. You can't lose. No. You _won't. _Do you understand me, Pixel?"

I pause for a moment.

Do I understand him?

Or…do I understand any of this?

I don't…I never have…

Until now.

I nod.

"Good."

He then brings his hands up to the side of my face. He clasps my cheeks in his hands, stroking them with his thumbs. "I'll miss you." I say, my voice starting to crack as the tears start to form again.

"Don't."

I'm not sure I understand what he means, but before I have the chance to contemplate it…

He's gone.

And…I'm alone.

Again…

It's really weird to think that…

That…

It may be the last time I ever see them again.

But no.

It won't.

I will win.

I promise it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Next chapter! Sorry for taking so long to update but I've been incredibly busy with school and all. Anyway, please submit more tributes! I would appreciate it.**

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**Chapter 5: Train Rides**

I stare as the world flashes by. I have never felt so…weird. Desolate. Even though I wasn't.

No. It was _far _from quiet.

"This cake is soooooo yummy! Do you like cake, Pixel? I like cake. My mom makes me cake. She puts little wings on them! They're called fairy-cakes. Did you know that? I did. Mom says that whenever you eat one, a little fairy grants you one wish! I've made soooooo many wishes, because I just can't stop eating them! My Dad says '_If you keep eating so many of those cakes you'll get so big we'll have to carry you around in a wheelbarrow!' _But they're so YUM! How can I resist?"

Yes. I have been listening to _that _for half an hour now.

Oh, such fun.

Can my life get any better?

In case you're wondering, that little annoyance is Sunny. Sunny Wyatt. He's the male tribute. Twelve years old in age, and absolutely tiny. He's incredibly skinny, with very pale skin, covered in freckles. His hair is blond and sticks up in and every direction. And, the weirdest thing about him is not his loudness, or his annoyiness, or his strangely feminine name, no. It's the fact that he _volunteered. _I know, right? Nobody ever volunteers from the non-career districts. Especially not three. I tried asking him about it, but he got distracted by a pine tree and proceeded to talk about it for the next fifteen minutes. My ears were literally bleeding.

"How about we play eye-spy?!" Sunny waited for us to answer, but when no one did, he continued in his one-sided conversation. "Okay then, I'll go first! I spy with my little eye…something beginning with T!"

He waited again.

"Oh, come on, you know this one. It's big. It's cool. _And _we're in it."

Oh _jee, _I have _no _idea what _that _could be.

He continued nagging each of us for another five minutes until I eventually gave in and answered just to shut him up. "Train." I say, sighing, leaning my head against the window.

"Yes! Great job, Pixie! Do you like the nickname? I think it's cool. From now on you're 'Pixie.' Maybe you could come up with a nickname for me! Then we'd be awesome together! Wouldn't that be-"

"-Anyway," Everyone practically jumped at the sound of a voice other than Sunny's filling the room. I look up, seeing Beetle standing right in front of us. "You two are the new tributes, correct?"

No. We're pole-dancing cats.

"Yup!" Sunny beamed, throwing an arm around my shoulder. I sigh, scratching the back of my head. "We're the cool two! The dynamic duo! The double trouble! The-"

"Yes, I, erm, get the picture." He says, smiling warmly. He sits down in the seat facing us, next to our other mentor, Wiress. "If you don't already know, our names are-"

"Beetle, right? And Wiress?" I interrupt, looking at the two of them. Beetle has rather longish, dark hair and ashen skin, and a pair of wire frames rested upon his nose. Wiress shared his dark hair and pale skin and her hair reached her shoulders. She looked pretty, in an unusual way. They looked quite alike. But a lot of people in our district looked alike so that wasn't exactly breaking news.

Wiress does, what looks like an odd giggle, and Beetle blushes, looking away for a second. "Not quite. My name is _Beetee _not _Beetle." _

Oh.

Well…we're clearly off to a great start.

Sunny's brow furrows, then he shakes his head. "Nah…I prefer Beetle."

"Yeah. Me too." I say, grinning like a mad fool.

"But-"

"Well then." I say, turning to face Sunny.

"It's decided!" Sunny beams, turning to face me.

"From now on – you're Beetle." I say.

"But-"

"Anyway," I interrupt again, ignoring the annoyed and slightly confused expression on Beetle's face. "We should get started, right?"

Wiress nods, looking off towards the window. She looks as if she's day-dreaming. Like I do, sometimes. "We should find out about yourselves…" she trails off, still staring out the window, smiling fondly at the scenery as it flies by.

Beetle nods, before turning back to face us. "Yes. Wiress is right. We should find out a little about you. It may help a lot."

"How so?" I say, leaning back in my cushy seat, folding my arms across my chest.

"Well, for example, it can help us work out what angle you should go with. How you should act in the Capitol, ect. And just so we know a little about who we are mentoring." He pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, looking between the two of us. "Now, who would like to go first?"

"ME! Pick me, Beetle!" Sunny is practically jumping up and down on the seat with excitement, waving his hand in the air. I almost laugh at his eagerness.

"Okay, Sunny, tell us about yourself."

"Well…" Sunny starts, rubbing his chin in thought. "I love cake. OH! And I _love _video-games! Especially Dragon Sword II: Legends of The Mists!" He then continued to recite the entire plot of his game in detail, seemingly not noticing that none of us were paying the slightest bit of attention. "Oh, and did I tell you that Pandora, the dark-magic ninja, is actually a dude?! I know, right? I was all like-"

"Okay," I'm awoken from my thoughts of being dead, and how nice it would be to escape Sunny, when Beetle's voice rings through my ears. "Now, Sunny, we must give Pixel a turn. Pixel, tell us about yourself."

I sigh, scratching the back of my head. "Well…I live with my Dad. I have a cat, named Mr Wigglebottom – don't ask, and I love cheese. Someday I will marry it and we will live happily ever after in a pink castle with little cheese babies."

When I saw the major 'WTF' expression displayed across Beetle's face, I decided I better stop before he had a nervous break-down. I had even managed to bring Wiress out of her dream-state with my words.

"Ah, um, okay then…why don't you tell us more about what you like to do. Hobbies, interests and such."

"Okay…I like to hang out with my friends…and I like to paint, and dance…and act." I say. "But, I'm not that good at any of it, really. It's just, you know, fun."

Beetle nods in a thoughtful way, looking curious. "What do you paint?"

"Um…Anything that interests me…rain on a window, grass, birds, flowers…anything, really."

It was true. I had always loved art. It always made me feel good, calm, even. I could just let out all my emotion by swinging my brush about on some paper. It was very stress-relieving. To me, anyway.

"Good…good…" Wiress says, smiling in a sort of distant-way.

Beetle turns to her, nodding and smiling slightly. "I think we have made good progress today. We shall talk more once we arrive in the Capitol." And with that, he stood up and walked off, Wiress following suit.

I went back to staring out the window. It was nice, seeing everything fly by. I loved seeing all the trees and greenery. There was hardly any of that back in my district. Our district consisted basically of the colour grey. I guess that's why I always loved to dress brightly, and act brightly too. Our district needed some colour.

"Hey…" I heard a very familiar (and annoying) voice say. "You okay?"

I lift my head from the sill of the window, turning towards my district partner. "Hmm?"

He smiles at me. "I said are you okay? You seem…in a bad way right now."

"Well, this whole thing is something I could've done without…" I sigh, turning my attention back towards the window.

After a while, I turn back towards the seat beside me, to see Sunny was still sitting beside me, munching on yet another cupcake. He then turns to face me, beaming happily.

I guess you kinda have to admire his spirit.

"Sunny," I say, crossing my legs on my seat, swiveling my whole body to face him. "Why did you volunteer?"

"I, um…it's a really, _really _long story…" he says, scratching the back of his head.

"We have time." I say, shrugging in a bored way.

"Ah…" he says, looking down at his feet, shuffling around uncomfortably. "I'd…erm, rather not talk about that right now."

But before I could say anything else he went sprinting of down the hallway, leaving me sitting there, utterly bewildered.

That was weird…Sunny wouldn't shut up before...but one mention of the whole volunteering thing he was out o' here like a shot.

I wonder what that whole thing was about…

One thing's for sure: there is more to Sunny Wyatt than first thought…

What an odd kid.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello my lovers! I am so, **_**so **_**incredibly happy with all the reviews I've gotten and really appreciate every word of them. It's so nice to know that everyone's enjoying what I'm writing!**

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**Chapter 6: Arrival in _H_**_**ell **_**(Aka: The Capitol)**

I'm awoken from my peaceful nap by an over-excited voice. "_We're here! We're here!" _

Surprisingly, it's not Sunny this time. It's our escort, Harley Leo, squealing in excitement. He has hardly spoke the whole trip, to busy adjusting his make-up, probably.

Is it sad when you're a eighteen year old girl and your sitting next to a dude who wears more make-up than you?

Probably.

I look up to see Sunny come stampeding down the hall and running towards the window. He jumps up onto a chair and starts to wave frantically at the rainbow-people outside.

The moment I turn my attention towards the window too, I am immediately blinded by a bunch of flashing colors, bright enough to burn my retina.

"Ow…" I say, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and sitting up properly in my chair.

I finally get a look at the Capitol-people.

They are all wearing _extremely _elaborate clothing, in every color you could possibly imagine. All pushing past one-another to get a look at the new batch of tributes.

I can't help but wonder what they thought of me. I know from now on I'll be referred to as 'The-one-who-fainted' for life.

I turn in my seat to look at Sunny. He doesn't seem the slightest bit affected by these people. His face holds the same fascination of a child's at a zoo. Full of wonder and interest.

The Capitolians seem to be absolutely lapping this up, all waving and beaming at him. I can even see them going 'Awww, how cute!'

Well, at the very least Sunny will get some sponsors.

Wish I could the say the same for me.

I feel someone nudge me in the arm. I turn to my right to see Harley smiling at me, his big, bright smile. I notice his teeth are diamond studded. Dat's pimp.

"Smile."

"What?" I say, stupidly, raising an eyebrow at him.

"_Smile. _It'll make them like you."

"But what if I don't want them to like me?"

"Trust me. It works."

"Fine." I say, sighing heavily. I turn towards the window, smiling as best I could, even giving a small wave. They went absolutely bonkers for it, waving back and beaming like idiots. It makes me feel a little good…people have never shown _that_ amount of interest in me before. Pity I had to face death to get it.

Eventually the train juts to a halt, and I slowly rise to my feet. I look around, seeing everyone else was now standing too. Just I was about to start walking, Harley whispered in my ear. "You're doing good. Keep it up." He then walks of ahead of me. Leaving me standing here like a gormless idiot. Once he realizes he's the only one at the door, he spins round, beckoning at us. "Come on, my lovelies, time is of the essence!"

I sigh, grabbing onto Sunny's arm and pulling him along with me.

Into the bowels of hell we go.

* * *

And…now we're here. I'm alerted of this by Harley, squealing in excitement.

I look up, to see a very large, and _very _tall apartment building. So this is where we'll be staying for the next few days.

I push open the door and step out the car, observing the area. It has lots of tall buildings, and some trees, and pretty street lamps and benches. It was like a different world compared to anything I've ever seen.

As much as it kills me to admit it…it's amazing.

"Hey, day-dreamer! Come on!" When I looked down, I saw Sunny tugging at the hem of my dress, trying to drag me along with him.

"I'm coming, I'm coming…" I say, waving him off. I watch as he starts skipping towards the building, giggling in an overexcited-way. I shake my head at this, feeling the corners of my lips twitch into a small smile.

"He grows on you, doesn't he?"

"HOLY FLYING-SPAGHETTI-MONSTER!" I yelp as I jump about five foot in the air. I spin on my heel, to see the familiar electric-blue hair of Harley. "STOP SNEAKING UP ON ME, WILL YA?"

He brought his hand up in front himself, gesturing that he wasn't gonna kill me or whatever my frazzled brain thought he would do. "It's okay, just me, alright?"

I narrow my eyes at him, folding my arms across my chest. "I am a little edgy, you do realize, and you sneaking up on me does not particularly help that."

He walks up beside me, still smiling in a calm way as he scans the area. "It's amazing, isn't it?"

"What is?" I ask, turning to face him as we walk along the pavement together.

"This place. So…abstract. Wonderful. Don't you agree?"

"I agree about the 'abstract' bit." I smile a little as I say those words. "But still. I rather wouldn't be here."

"I agree."

"Really?" I ask, cocking an eyebrow. It never struck me that a capitol citizen wouldn't like it here.

"Yes. Too busy for my liking. I much prefer calmer places, like your district, for example."

I almost snort at that. Our district? _Calm? _Yeah right. "Ugh…I think you've got the wrong place there, Harley."

He chuckled slightly at that, shaking his head. "Not at all, Pixel, not at all…"

I don't quite understand what he meant by that. It's quite annoying. Everyone seems to be talking in riddles for some odd reason.

We walk in silence for a minute or so, before a question pops into my mind. "Harley?"

"Hmm?"

"Why were you acting so…I dunno. Capitol-like before, but now you're all normal. What's up with that?"

He immediately burst out laughing then, so much so that I think he was in hysterics. I pause my walking, and turn to look at him, cocking an eyebrow at his strange and totally un-Capitol like behavior. "Hey, what's so funny?"

Eventually he ceases his hysterics, and straightens up, wiping tears from his eyes. "Your choice of words my dear Pixel." He then does a sort of school-girl giggle, his face slightly red as he sees all the Capitol people who have paused to stare at us.

Once he regains composure (which takes about five minutes), we continue walking. "You're are quite blunt with your words, aren't you, Pixel?"

"Thanks. I think you're a lovely person too." I grin, shaking my head at him. "Besides, I don't have _time _to be all 'delicate' with my wording…" I let myself trail off, and I let out a sigh as I remember. "-my life practically over as it is, I don't have time to be all smart and fancy like all the Capitol folk." I wave an arm around, gesturing to the 'Capitol folk.'

Harley shakes his head, a slight smile on his lips. "I think you're wrong there, my dear."

I raise an eyebrow. "Hmmm?"

"You don't give yourself enough credit. Even though you may not think it: you're doing well."

I literally snort at that. "Yeah, _totally. _Did you even see the reaping? I _fainted. _That's pretty much the _worst _reaction ever."

"First, don't snort, it makes you sound like a pig," He either didn't notice or chose to ignore the extremely pissed of expression on my face. In my humble opinion my snorts were cute…apparently not. However, this is coming from a guy that is wearing more make-up than I and glowing flip-flops. So… "Second, true, fainting is not exactly the best possible scenario, but it's not the worst," He pauses, as if contemplating something. "Think of The Games as a deck of cards. Fainting is one of them. Depending on how you play them, they can be used to your advantage."

My brow furrows at his words. "I guess you right," I say. "But…I'm not sure that's how playing cards works."

He giggled slightly at my words, shaking his head. "You're probably right there, I'm not too familiar with card games."

"Maybe, ya know, if I _live _through the next few weeks I could teach you."

"I'd like that."

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**Okay guys. I'm really sorry this is just a small filler chapter, but I really wanted to give some insight on Harley (cause I **_**loaf **_**him – get it? Loaf?). But I prefer to write this way. Next chapter will be more interesting! Promise!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys! This is the new chapter! I hope you all like it!**

**P. S. Would be very helpful if everyone could maybe submit some more tributes? Or tell others about this SYOT? I just really wanna start the reapings.**

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**Chapter 7: A Clockwork Heart**

We were now just outside the after what seemed like forever. I was glad. I was absolutely exhausted and all I wanted to do was sleep.

I guess I am kind of still in denial. I want to wake up and find out it was all a dream.

But I'm not stupid. I know that's not gonna happen.

But hey, a girl can dream, right?

I looked up as Harley pushes open the door, looking in. He beckoned for us to come closer. We do, of course. I peer round the doorway.

Wow.

It's…

Wow.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Harley says in a near whisper. Only I'm not listening. The only thing I can focus on is this…

Amazing place.

I mean…

Wow.

It had crystal chandeliers, glass tables, delicious food, massive televisions…and so much more. It was…the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

When I awoke from my trance, I saw Sunny had already run in and was making himself at home. I watched him with a small smirk pulling at my lips as he starts jumping up and down the couch, while Beetle tries in vain to get him down.

"You like it?" Harley asks, smiling at me.

"It's…fantastic."

We step inside. I feel weird. Like…I shouldn't be touching something so, perfect, beautiful. Like I might ruin it.

"I'm glad you do. My husband designed it, you know."

"You're married?"

His smile fades slightly then. "Sort of."

But before I can say anything else, he continues. "Anyway," he turns away, smiling at Sunny this time. "Sunny, Pixel, why don't you both relax for a while. Then we can all have dinner."

I nod. After all, I feel like I deserve a break. "Good idea. I'm gonna go take a shower. Maybe a nap."

"Me too! Me too! Will they have cupcakes at dinner, Mr Leo?" Sunny says, still jumping up and down enthusiastically.

Harley laughs at this. "They'll have anything and everything you could possibly want to eat, dear Sunny. And, please, call me Harley, not Mr Leo. It makes me feel a hundred years old."

Sunny beams excitedly. "YAY! We could all have a cupcake eating contest! I have to warn, you I'm the best of them all! I could eat, like, one-million cupcakes in two-seconds flat!"

I shake my head, a smile on my lips. "Harley, do you know where my room is?"

"Down the hall, first room on the left."

I nod my thanks, going in the direction he pointed me in. I push open my door to see a beautiful, clean, and…just lovely room. It makes my room back home look like a garbage can.

Home…

I miss it already…

Shame I probably won't be coming back.

I sit down on the bed, sighing. I could really just fall back and sleep, but I wanted to shower first anyway.

I was in the middle of striping off my dress when something fell with a loud 'clank' to the floor. I blink in confusion, staring at the small box lying on the fluffy rug beneath my feet.

I bend down, picking up the small box. I fiddle around with it, throwing it around, shaking it, staring at it. It doesn't seem to open, oddly enough.

That is until…

My finger slips over a small, what feels like a lump at the back, and the small box pops open. I see…

The most beautiful thing…I've ever seen.

It's a small…a small heart shaped necklace, with pretty little cog designs and was made up of scrap pieces of metal, all joined together and painted a shimmering golden-bronze.

When I lift it from the velvet of the box, I see it breaks in two…

So…it's like one of those friendship necklaces. But only…well, more clearly, means something more than that…

Then, a small piece of folded up paper falls out of the heart into my lap. I pick up with my trembling fingers, unfolding it delicately, careful not to rip it.

The hand-writing is so fragile, and delicate, almost…

'_Keep me with you. This heart is mine and beats only for you. So…even if your heart stops…mine will always go on for you._

_A Shattered Heart'_

For some reason…I feel all shaky. The paper slips from my fingers and floats down to the ground.

Who wrote that?

Why did they write that?

I place my head in my hands.

As if this wasn't already hard enough.

I get to my feet, my legs wobbling slightly. I grab the piece of paper, stuff it back inside the small heart and close the box, sitting it on my dresser.

I place my hand on the dresser, staring at the small box.

I eventually look up, coming face to face with my reflection. "Man. I look awful."

My hair is all tangled and frizzy, my eyes outlined with dark circles, and my skin is unnaturally pale. I look ill. I am ill. I feel ill.

I run a hand backwards through my hair, trying to make myself look suitable. "Ugh. Why? Just…why?" I sigh.

Why the hell me?

I don't wanna do this.

Yeah. Because I have a massive choice in the matter.

Not.

I hate this.

Everything's so complicated now…and it's only been a couple hours after the reaping.

I close my eyes.

And I'm falling again.

Like how I felt before.

I'm floating.

And then I come crashing back down.

Pain rakes through my spine as I hit something hard, and I wince.

But before I can hit the ground, or whatever's beneath me, something stops me. Catches me.

It lowers me to the ground, I toss around, not wanting to be put down. I want this mysterious figure to stay with me. whisper sweet nothings into my ears. Tell me that everything's gonna be okay. That _I'll _be okay.

"No…" I mutter into this mysterious person's chest. They smell like…blood. Blood and sorrow.

Can you smell sorrow?

I clutch the fabric of their shirt, clinging on for dear life. I don't want to be alone. This person could be about to kill me, for all I know, but I don't care. I just want it all to end. I just want it to be over. I just want to wake up and it'll all have been a bad dream.

Is that too much to ask?

Probably…

"Stay…" I say, using whatever strength I have left. My voice comes out in a pathetic whimper, but I don't care.

I'm finding it hard to care about anything right now.

I feel my body enveloped in a softness. Like I'm lying on a cloud. Floating through the air. It feels nice. I wonder if I can just stay here now.

But then…I'm awoken from my softer alternate reality as my eyes snap open. Or at least, I think so…

I see a figure. A small figure above me. And green eyes. Beautiful green eyes. empty, beautiful green eyes. They are so full of emotion…but yet they hold none.

Does that make sense?

I hope so.

And then…

Those empty green orbs are gone.

Just…gone.

And I'm all alone again.

Because that's how it has to be.

Just me, all alone in my own little world.

Because it's always been this way…

It's always been…

Just me.

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**I'm sorry, guys! This is just yet **_**another **_**filler, but I'm just writing another chapter while I wait to get in all the tributes. It was pretty fun to write, actually. But anyway. I'm sorry if you guys hated it. I'm not too keen on it either, but meh. Please review anyway!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Yo! Hey guys! Here's the nest chapter for you all! **

**P. S. for some reason I feel the need to say this, I played Foxy-face in a show of the Hunger Games! Yay! **

**P. P. S. I now have all the tributes so I will now be closing the SYOT feature. Thank you all for your submissions.**

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**Chapter 8: So…this is my competition. I'm screwed.**

I groan as my eyes slowly open. I look around. It's around then when-

"HEY!"

I scream as I jump back in the bed, my head slamming against the wall with a loud 'thump.' My eyes open again to see Sunny sitting beside me on the bed, staring at me in his 'totally clueless' way. I narrow my eyes at him, rubbing the back of my head.

Wow. I've just realized that I've been banging my head a lot recently…this can't be great for my brain.

Not that it matters, because some blood-thirsty career will have such fun smashing up my brains with an axe.

"What's the big idea, huh?!" I yell at him, still rubbing my sore head. "Owww…" I mutter. this lump is probably twice the size of my whole head now. Stupid me and my stupid head-banging.

Sunny scratches the back of his head, smiling in an awkward way. "Sorry, but Mr Leo told me to wake you. The reapings re-cap is about to start! Beetle and Wiress said it would be useful for us to know some stuff about our opponents."

I nod. "Right. How long have I been asleep?"

He taps his finger against his chin in thought. "Hmmm…about half-an-hour, probably. Wasn't long, anyway."

That's when it hit me. That strange figure that was in my room. Did I just imagine it? I don't know anymore…nothing makes any sense! Ugh. Just…ugh.

"Sunny…?"

"Yeah?"

"Nobody came in my room, right? Like, when I went through?"

"I don't think so…why?"

I sigh. "Well, it's just…on second thought, no, it doesn't matter."

"Come on, pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease?"

"No."

"But-"

Then another voice juts in, calling from outside the door. I recognize it to be Harley's. I was kind of relieved, I didn't want to have to explain my weird encounter to Sunny. "_Come on you two! The reapings are about to start!" _He sing-songs off, and he hear his feet skipping away.

"I'm gonna get ready. You go on ahead." I try a faint smile at him, but it's a worn one. Things really get sad when you can't even find the energy to smile anymore, don't they?

He grins back at me. "'Kay! I'm gonna go through. Be quick, alright?"

I nod, and he runs out the room in a dash. That kid certainly has a lot of energy.

I pull back the bed covers, rubbing sleep-crust from my eyes. I stretch out my arms before getting to my feet. I walk over to the dresser and pull open the drawer. Crisp, fresh and comfy clothes await me. I pull out some clean underwear, a yellow hoodie and grey sweat-pants.

Once I'm down changing, I stagger into the bathroom. I turn on the taps, splashing my face with the cool water. Once I'm finished with my face, I do the best I can with my hair. I comb it through with my fingers, trying to make myself like kind of presentable. Not that it really mattered. But I didn't want to turn up looking like an absolute wreck. Even though I was most likely gonna die, I wasn't going to give up hope. I wouldn't let the Games ruin me, or turn me into a sobbing wreck.

I would be brave.

Besides…maybe dying isn't as bad as it's made out to be.

At the very least I'd be free. Free from the hurt, pain, of this awful world we live in.

I walk out of my bathroom, out of my room, and into the hall. I peer round the wall to see everyone is already sitting on the couch, looking pretty relaxed, watching the reapings.

I slowly walk over, and Sunny, sensing my presence, turns around, peering over the sofa at me, his grin so big it practically takes up three-quarters of his face. He pats the cushion next to him, gesturing for me to sit next to him. "Hey…" I say, flopping down into soft leather.

_Wow. This is like…the most comfy thing ever. I could get used to this._

I'm awoken from my thoughts when Harley's loud voice rings through my ears. "The reapings have already started. Look." He points towards the screen.

I see the escort for District 1, Amelia Caleburn or something as ridiculous as that, walking over to the reaping bowl. She removes her glove, and reaches her hand in, making a big deal of it. She pulls out a slip.

"Silk Sleek!"

I almost snort at the utterly ridiculous name. District 1 are always like that. They always name their kids incredibly stupid things. Like the Capitolites do.

I watch as all the girls start screaming like wild animals, jumping up and down, waving their arms in the air, trying to run up onto the stage.

After a while of the escort being all finicky about who to choose, she settles on a pretty girl with long blonde hair and green eyes. The girl looks happy. Not in a cocky way, but in a genuinely happy way. Like Sunny, but not nearly as over-the-top.

When the escort asks her name, she says 'Emerald Gleam.'

Great.

Of course that's her name.

She then does the usual thing of 'now for the boys.'

Before she even gets her hand in the bowl, the yells start again. I watch as an attractive boy with long, shaggy brownish-red hair, copper skin, and dark green eyes pushes his way through to the front of the crowd, a determined look plastering his face. It's clear he's the one.

The woman points at him after a long period of wavering. All the yells die down, and the boy joins the girl on the stage. They look like good match. His names turns out to be Isander Calus. But, when I look closely I can see a sad look on his face. I look of to where his gaze lies, and see a dark-skinned girl, hair in braided cornrows, staring at him, looking like she might start crying.

And with that the screen fades off.

Then it's District 2. My least favourite of a_ll _the districts. It's because all them seem like absolute 'Capitol lap-dogs.' I shake my head, watching as they all cheer. They're just a bunch of sadists.

After a while of the usual crap, the escort finally picks out a name. I don't see why they even bother, because that person never actually gets picked, it's always a volunteer.

She calls out a name, but I can't hear it, because before she even opens her mouth, all the girls start yelling, jumping up and down, trying to run onto the stage, ect. Eventually a girl gets picked, a classic career, you might say, only…she's absolutely titchy.

I almost laugh at that. She can't be more than twelve. She certainly looks the part though. Gold hair in tight ringlets, small, narrowed green eyes, and very pale skin. She makes her way up onto the stage, a sneer plastering her face. It's funny how something that tin could look scary. It's odd she was chosen…clearly she must be able to make up for her disadvantage in the height department well…and that kinda scares me. I make a mental note to stay out of her way.

Then it's the boys turn. This…is when it gets literally painful to watch.

I watch as she places her hand in the bowl, roaming around a while before pulling out a slip. She opens it and shouts 'Theon Casca.'

Then everything goes silent.

No screams of volunteers, nothing.

I watch as the camera searches around, trying to find the unlucky boy. It eventually locks on a boy. A boy with a shock of bright red hair. His eyes are outlined with black, making them look very large. but I can't see the actual colour of them, since his gaze remains fixated on the ground below him. He's ghostly pale, but I don't know if that's his natural skin tone or if it's because he's just been chosen to fight to the death in a game where only one out of twenty four can win. He stands very still, like a statue.

He starts to walk forward very slowly, still staring at the ground. I watch as boys try to trip him, sticking out their feet in front of him. He dodges them without much thought, until a massive boy, brute sized, comes up behind him, and shoves him over. The boy just lays on the ground for a while, before pulling himself up onto his hands and knees, painfully slowly. His eyes remain on the ground. I watch as he wipes his mouth, and this time, stares down in disbelief at his hands. I see blood drip from his nose and lip slowly into the palm of his hand.

Then he breaks the silence.

"I wouldn't have done that if I were you."

His voice sends shudders down my spine. It's dark and rough…and, most of all, scary. I see a smirk play across his lips, and he gets to his feet.

Then he looks up, and stares straight at the camera.

His eyes.

They're…they're…

Green.

He turns back towards the other male. Said male staggers back, a fearful look on his face. "I'll deal with you later." Theon says, his voice dripping with malice.

He then starts to walk towards the stage, ignoring the blood that dribbles down his face, and drops onto the ground.

Then a little girl pushes her way through the crowd, and throws her arms around the boy. He stops in his tracks and stares down at her, his expression completely blank.

The little can't be anything more than nine. And she's crying her eyes out. She begs him not to go, to stay with her, but he doesn't say anything. His face remains empty.

That is until he bends down, and whispers something to her. She stops crying, wiping her eyes with her sleeve and sniffling. The Peace-keepers, clearly growing inpatient, yank her up, pulling her away. she screams, thrashing around, trying to escape. Theon's arms are grabbed, and he is escorted up onto the stage by them.

The boys just stares of into the distance the whole time.

Those eyes…they're so familiar…

Was he the one in my room…?

But why?

How?

No. It couldn't have been him. Just my mind playing tricks on me, clearly.

Wow. I'm already going insane and The Games haven't even started yet…

The nest is our district. Such fun.

And, I get to watch it all happening. Well shit.

Ceaser Flickyhair and that other guy comment on my fainting. Occasionally making jokes. It makes me want to curl up under a rock and die. Everyone will think I'm easy prey now. The careers will probably be laughing their heads off at this, as will the rest of Panem.

I watch myself on screen. I look even more ghost-like than the boy from 2. I'm shaking to the point where I look like a human pile of jelly. Harley keeps asking at me if I'm alright, but I'm oblivious. I just keep staring at Tennit. Then, I hit the ground with a loud thump. Everyone gasps, and I feel like a fool.

I can't look at everyone sitting on the couch beside me. I know I won't be able to bare the sympathetic glances thrown my way.

I watch as my body is dragged of stage.

I grit my teeth, trying to stop the blush I'm pretty sure is spreading across my cheeks at the current moment. I close my eyes, unable to watch for a second.

They open again when I hear a name called out. 'Kyle Electron.' I think it is.

But before the camera even has the time to find the unlucky boy, a shout of 'I volunteer' rings through the silent space. The camera searches for this boy, and, of course, it locks on Sunny. He's grinning broadly, and it seems so incredibly out of place. hopefully his volunteering will take the spotlight of me and my whole fainting fiasco.

We all watch as Sunny almost skips up onto the stage. The expression on Harley's face on screen makes me want to laugh.

Harley asks him his name, and he responds, of course. Harley looks like he's about to explode with excitement as the screen fades out.

Then it's District 4.

I don't pay much attention to it. A girl with dark hair and green eyes volunteers, but then spends the rest of her time on stage biting her nails. Probably regrets _that _decision, doesn't she? District 4 has always been an odd one. It's in the in-between. They're not as enthusiastic as 1 and 2, but not as unenthusiastic as the other districts.

It's only then that something surprises me. A muscular boy, attractive, with copper skin and army-style shaved dark brown hair. His eyes were narrowed and mean-looking, silvery-blue in colour. Coolness, determination and clear strength that just radiates from him in waves. A total sponsor-magnet. They usually come from career districts, the drop dead (ironic joke alert) gorgeous and hawt ones. Like Finnick Odair for instance. Aka: the walking-talking smexy.

This little jerk was just full of swag.

_Stupid, gorgeous-swag dude. Why must you be so hawt? Why do I want to glomp you? Must…fight…fangirlism…no…losing…battle…_

He had a smirk on his face as well. A _smirk._ I really wanna punch him right about now.

He tells us his name, which is Ryne Littrens. Of course it is.

Then it's District 5.

A girl is reaped, of course. Her name is Ivory Hayes. She has the usual sort of reaction. Just looking confused for a moment until they realize it's their own name that got picked. She looks sixteen. Dark shoulder-length straight hair and hazel eyes. She walks up onto the stage and spends half her time shaking like a leaf. She looks like she might start crying at any moment, and I feel a pang of sympathy inside me, but I crush it immediately. My situation's just as bad after all, if not worse.

Nothing interesting happens up until District 7. A little girl, Sara Conner is called. She immediately starts to cry. the peace-keepers have to literally run over and carry her away. it's only then when something interesting happens.

"I VOLUNTEER! I VOLUNTEER!" Are the words I hear shouted from the crowd. I lean forward in my seat. See the camera lock on a young girl, maybe fifteen or fourteen, with round, sweet face and long, curly, chocolate coloured hair. She pushes her way to the front of the crowd, grabbing up the little weeping girl. She runs over to a boy, and sits then girl down beside him. She whispers something in his ear, and it's then when I see the tears running down his face.

She's then dragged up onto the stage, and says her name: Heather Wood. As the screen starts to fade out, you can see the start of tears rolling down her cheeks.

A girl gets reaped from 10, and naturally starts crying. She's around fifteen, and most of the tributes seem to be around that age. She's pretty, platinum blonde hair, and ice-coloured eyes. though, being pretty doesn't help you in The Hunger Games. It's not a pageant.

Then it's district 11. A beautiful dark skinned girl with long, slightly tangled black hair is picked. When the camera finds her, she's shaking so much she makes a jelly look like a statue. She keeps shaking her head, as if trying to reassure herself that it wasn't her, like it was all a dream. Then the peacekeepers came, grabbing her by the arms and pulling her along. She starts screaming, thrashing wildly, yelling for them to let her go. She bites, scratches and punches but it all does nothing. If only she realized what she was doing would definitely turn the game-makers against you in the arena, and that's the last thing you want.

Onto the final District, District 12. Probably the weakest of all the districts, beside 3, of course. Both 3 and 12 usually have the lowest amount of victors. 12 only has one, Haymitch Abernathy. Probably the most sad man ever. He was in the 50th Annual Hunger Games, The Quarter Quell. My Dad saw those games, and said they were awful.

A didn't pay much attention to the female, strangely it was only the male that interested me. He had brown, floppy hair and pale blue eyes. He was attractive. When his name was called out, Keegan Caverly, it was – he just stood still for a moment, looking oddly calm, until he started walking towards the stage. He looked distant…almost as if he didn't realize what was happening. It was weird. Once he boarded the stage, he just started mumbling to himself. Odd kid.

Then the screen faded out.

So that was my competition.

I'm screwed.

* * *

**I'm sorry I didn't do every tribute individually, but honestly I don't have the time to do each and every district, I've got a lot of school-work and really don't have time to do all that. Besides, it would probably put me off writing the whole thing. I'm sorry if you didn't like it, though I tried my best.**


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